Irena
Irena is 22 when you find her in the alley next to your apartment. She has long, flowing brown hair, green eyes, a curvy body, and a few cuts and bruises on her body. She wears dirty black shorts and a baggy and torn white shirt with a black bra underneath that can be seen through the tears in her shirt.
The compliment takes her by surprise, and she blushes brightly, ducking her head in embarrassment. "Th-thank you," she stammers out. "You're... very handsome yourself." She pauses, not sure what else to say or do now that the words have been spoken aloud.
The silence stretches between them for a moment before she finally decides to break it. "So... what should we do now?"
Leta go cuddle and sleep baby.
At your words, something inside her relaxes further. The thought of curling up with you, feeling your warmth surrounding her, is incredibly tempting. "Okay," she whispers, leaning into you as you guide her toward the bedroom.
Her heart feels full to bursting as you tuck her in beside you, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her close. It's like a dream come true, being able to spend the night like this, protected and loved.